I’m really trying to get back into blogging, although I feel like I really don’t have a lot going on right now that would be exciting for anyone else to read about.

Today is my Saturday kitty’s sixth birthday. I can’t believe my little teeny tiny kitten is six years old today. I know, I know, it sounds like such a “cat lady” thing to talk about, my cat’s birthday. In my defense, I know his birthday because he was brought into the shelter I used to volunteer at shortly after birth, and his birthday is printed on his vaccine records. I don’t know Angel or Oliver’s birthday, so I just keep track of their ages by their adoption dates. Oliver, I think, was born sometime in March of 2006. Angel was about two years old when I got her, so I really have no idea exactly when she was born or how old she really is. We can only guess.

I bought Saturday a new cardboard scratcher (they’re  his favorite and he routinely gets new ones because he’s hard on them and tears them up) and some toy mousies with feather tails. I gave him the scratcher last night when I got home, and he got really excited over it. He rubbed around on it, broke it in with some good hard scratching, and then came and got in my lap and rubbed his face back and forth across my arm while he purred, as if to say thank-you. This morning I gave him the mousies, and he was in cat heaven. He played with them while I got ready for work. No doubt they’ll soon be stuck under the couch or somewhere, but I gave him three so hopefully he’ll always have at least one that he can find.

I watched him playing, purring away, and was happy to see my little guy so thrilled. I tried not to feel sad when I thought about his sister Friday, who is no longer with me and will not get any new toys or snuggles from me on her birthday. I left both Friday and a fifth cat, Darwin, with Ex Boyfriend when I moved out last December. I didn’t do it because I don’t love them as much as the other three. I love them both to pieces and I miss them every day. Despite having always vowed that if I were ever to find myself apart from Ex, all five cats would go with me, I left Friday and Darwin because having five cats in a small apartment would not have been a good situation for them. I had initially offered to let Ex keep Darwin only, because Darwin just adores him and loves him far more than he ever loved me. But Ex wanted Friday too, and even though it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do, I agreed to let him keep her. I didn’t want Darwin to be alone, and I knew in my heart that even four cats for one person was a lot.

I never thought it would work out the way it did. I never thought that Ex would end up hating me and I would most likely never get to see Friday and Darwin again. The last time I saw them was last January, when he and I were still on civil terms and I watched his house and both cats while he was on vacation. But by February I had started seeing someone new, and Ex deals with that by despising me. I don’t know if he’s been on any trips out of town since (I would imagine he has), but if he’s needed someone to watch Friday and Darwin he’s chosen someone other than me. I know that he loves them and takes good care of them. I hope that they know that I love them, too. That I did the best I could for them.

I may not have Friday and Darwin anymore, but I comfort myself with the knowledge that they are well loved and cared for. And I do have Angel, Oliver, and Saturday to love and spoil rotten. I love them so much and am so glad that I get to be the one to take care of them and love them.